


Psychedella

by War_Disnei



Series: Crazy Princesses [1]
Category: Cinderella (1950), Cinderella (2015), Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Cinderella - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses
Genre: Gen, Hallucinogens, Marriage Gone Wrong, dangerous Cinderella, trail blazer Cinderella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Disnei/pseuds/War_Disnei
Summary: Cinderella gone bonkers. Parody. The TRUE story! You may (just may) eventually end up feeling sorry for Lady Tremaine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Tremaine is not an expert when it comes to choosing life partners.

When Lady Tremaine had married her good-for-nothing of a new husband, she would have NEVER imagined how messed up - and downright challenging - her life would turn out to be.

 

In her youth, she used to be the first to believe in lifelong romances: she had openly disobeyed her parents to marry a (rather ugly) man out of love (or better, infatuation - as she would later come to realize). She even bore him two whiney untalented daughters and continued caring for them and for his damaged public image well after he confessed to infidelity. She sacrificed her goals and curbed her aspirations for a life devoted to being a "good mother and a good wife". Subsequently, she focused herself on being a "good mother" when continuing to play the "good wife" became unsustainable, and too much of a joke for her to bear.

Then, the day after her husband's passing, Lady Tremaine swore to herself that never would she be "enslaved" again in her life by the false love of a man, so off she went to pursue the only pleasures she still believed in: material ones.

 

The easiest way for a middle-aged, unsatisfied widow to improve her financial condition was to marry anew: and what better suitor could she ask for, than the lighthearted, generous merchant from the nearby village!

The owner of a countryside chateau and the widowed father of a daughter around her own girls' age, the man's itinerant job kept him away from home often enough for Lady Tremaine to seriously consider (a carefree and materialistic) marriage with him. He granted her he would never go bankrupt, claiming that a certain kind of special produce from his backyard always sold like hot cakes, given how _unique_ and _mind-blowing_ it was. He did not demand anything particular from her, nor did he seem interested in limiting her freedom.

This being said, it was with a special brand of disillusioned elation that Lady Tremaine said "yes" one crisp Sunday morning at the local church, Drizella and Anastasia her maids of honour, Lucifer her best man (or better, cat), the flashy engagement ring still on her finger. The man's daughter hadn't showed up, but this bit of information didn't overly arouse suspicion on Lady Tremaine's behalf: perhaps the poor sad thing was just shy. Or perhaps she was simply antisocial. Well, with her own daughters' rambunctious tendencies, some quietude from the third girl of the family couldn't hurt, could it?

That same day, the newly formed family mounted a carriage and headed to the chateau, Drizella and Anastasia complaining the entire way. The husband, fortunately enough, seemed oblivious to their bickering, and kept giggling for the whole ride.

_"How lucky I am to have found this nutty man!"_

Famous last words.

 

The moment Lady Tremaine stepped out of the carriage and made the man's daughter's acquaintance, she realized something was definitely off. The girl - who insisted on being called Cinderella, due to her affinity with the fireplace - was a real screwball, with major issues Lady Tremaine initially attributed to the trauma deriving from the premature loss of her mother, but subsequently came to realize were an expression of the girl's troubing nature. She wasn't sure she wanted her spitfire daughters around that person, at all.

As the hours turned into days and as the days turned into weeks, Lady Tremaine realized how big of a mistake she'd made. Second time around. To err is human, to persevere is diabolic.

Lady Tremaine understood she should've never agreed to moving in a never-before-seen location: her darling's abode was a chateau indeed, though a largely decrepit one at that. There were virtually no housekeepers, though dust and ash were abunding. The village was more than half a day's walk away, and there were no neighbours in the property's immediate surroundings.

She was isolated, so were her daughters, who were being _very_ vocal about their dissatisfaction on the matter, much to Lady Tremaine's nerves' chagrin.

 

And, worst of all, her husband was a _fraud_.

The marital bliss had ended before it had a chance of beginning in the first place.

He never went to work. Seldom did he rise before midday. He would spend his days "growing his precious produce" in the backyard and his nights drinking wine at the social events Lady Tremaine forced him to organize for an ever-shrinking bunch of "friends".

Once or twice in the course of a month, he would fill a saddlebag with hay, wrap a bundle containing bread and underwear and stow a couple of trunks on his cart to go and sell his "special produce" around the neighbouring villages. He prided himself on having a retinue of loyal costumers, but, for some reason, Lady Tremaine always failed to partake in his glee.

Following that, he would disappear just long enough for Lady Tremaine & daughters to have their nails done, showing back up again with discreet sums of money and wider-than-ever grins.

He sure was a nutjob, but as long as he brought the gold home, Lady Tremaine tolerated him.

That is, until he did so, because one ill-fated day, Lady Tremaine woke up to the World's Worst News: the bulk of her husband's backyard plantation had been hit by a terrible blight, forcing him to put his trading activities on hold.

Long, terrible days would ensue: the family was on the verge of going hungry, and had it not been for the foul-smelling mushroom soup Cinderella punctually served twice a day, they really would have starved. The problem was, only the husband and his daughter seemed to be able to digest (and even appreciate!) that sickening repast. The Tremaines, on the contrary, really hated it: laments of Drizella and Anastasia would mesh with Lucifer's nauseated meows, and for this once, Lady Tremaine didn't consider their collective whines to be exaggerated: she herself always felt a bit light-headed and dizzy after eating it, but ended up attributing her symptoms to her overall distressed state of mind.

Eventually, Lady Tremaine resolved on doing what she should've done way before moving in with her new husband: she inquired on the nature of his business, asking him what kind of produce he dealt that was so irreplaceable and vital to the family's financial wealth.

The husband happily obliged, not showing any sign of wounded male pride (unlike her first husband - hey, that's a plus!), conducting her to his backyard, and showing her his blighted mushroom plantation. Yes, ma'am. It was mushrooms he dealt for a living. It was mushrooms Cinderella fed them every day.

"Gotta love 'em 'shrooms!" the husband laughed gaily, going incredible lengths to explain to her how much he owed to them, and, occasionally, to a toad or two. Here it was, the secret of his lighthearded happiness, disclosed.

As Lady Tremaine put the pieces together, she started feeling overcome by an all-encompassing _rage_. She had been deceived. Tricked. Used.

How could she, Lady Tremaine, have been so naive? She had permanently damaged and shamed her family. Now nobody would ever want to marry her daughters, ever, not when they had a hallucinogenic mushroom smuggler and substance abuser for a step-father.

 

Of course, Lady Tremaine never could have imagined all of that: otherwise, like heck she would have married him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Tremaine gets down to (bloody) business.

Lady Tremaine was still young enough to recall a time when her own mother used to scold her for her extreme reactions and vindictive spirit. According to her, it all came down to the lethal mix of two defining traits of Lady Tremaine's character: perfectionism and a tendency to procrastinate. As a result, the woman would bottle-up resentment until she could hold it no more, then bursting as a Polynesian volcano and destroying everything with unapologetic fury.

That was what was on the verge of happening right now.

Ruby eyes and black heart, Lady Tremaine was ready to get her dignity back. Her good-for nothing husband would _pay_.

 

\---

 

That evening, as every evening, Lady Tremaine petted Lucifer, separated two rowing daughters as means of forceful goodnight, attempted to decipher Cinderella's babble before she went off wandering the greenhouse and surrounding hillside as she did every night and poured her husband a chalice of his favorite red wine.

Only thing was, unlike every night, tonight the beverage she was offering her high-on-shrooms husband wasn't plain wine. It was wine tainted with a taste of something vaguely almond-y.

_Arsenic._

With the warmest smile Lady Tremaine had displayed in a long, _long_ time, she sashayed towards her husband, who was getting over his mushroom hangover, sprawled on the velvet couch.

"Your drink, my husband" she leaned as he directed a weak smile at her, extending a wobbly arm to get a hold of the chalice.

As he brought it to his mouth, slurping the drink down to the last drop, Lady Tremaine's smile widened.

She had never felt so evil, nor so well, in her entire life.

As Lady Tremaine witnessed the spasmodic death of her disgaced husband, as the night fell over everything, the chateau witnessed the birth of a darker, lustier, less inhibited, Liberated by Evil Lady Tremaine.

 

Uneknownst to her, Cinderella would not fear this new version of her.

 

 


End file.
